Moonlaced Liaison
by Savage Midnight
Summary: Max becomes a confidante to the unlikeliest of people.


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Title: Moon-laced Liaison  
**Author:** Savage Midnight  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Any characters and concepts familiar to the Dark Angel universe belong to the creators of the show.  
**Summary:** Max becomes a confidante to the unlikeliest of people.  
**Authors notes:** The idea for this fic came to me in the early hours of the morning, while I was attempting to sleep. I had to write it before it drove me mad (or I forgot about it completely).

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It was a stormy night for the people of Seattle. As drunken club-goers stumbled home to their warm beds to await the inevitable hangover the morning would bring, no one noticed the two forms looming in the darkness of the alley way. Like every other Ordinary in the city, they were oblivious, ignoring them in favour of a warm shelter from the rain and shuffling past them without a second glance.

Closing time approached, and gradually the loud buzz of the city night-life quietened to the soft buzz of silence.

The rain poured down in heavy, dark sheets as Max stared at the broken man before her. Blood poured from his lower lip, as he sat tiredly against the brick wall of the club, his arms resting loosely on his knees. He looked lost, almost frightened, and for a split second, she pitied him. But Max knew more than anyone that he was the last person who wanted pity, nevermind her own. 

Settling herself down next to him, X5-452 cast a sideways glance towards him. His face was pale, the flesh pulled tight over his cheekbones. His eyes were sunken, ringed by dark shadows that turned his once mocking features into that of a vulnerable young boy. He looked for all the world like he'd just lost a small part of himself, a small piece of his innocence. And in the darkness of the alley, Max realised that in this man, there existed two worlds; two worlds that were galaxies apart.

In the silence of the moment, black mixed with white and the transgenic was currently faced with a grey-splattered canvas that told her nothing and everything about the man beside her. And for all her effort, Max couldn't seperate the colours.

Swallowing down the unfamiliar feeling of guilt, Max stared at the rain-soaked floor.

"I killed her, you know," he spoke, his voice unassuringly blank; emotionless. She stared across at him, but he hadn't moved. He was still staring at the same invisible spot ten metres in front of him.

"You loved her," Max countered, fascinated by the drops of crystal trickling lightly down his face. She wasn't sure if it was tears or rain.

It was his turn to look at her, and 452 found herself staring into cold, dark eyes, splintered by anguish and loss. His lips were set into a tight, white line and with a snort, he turned away.

"How can you be so sure?" he questioned. "How can you be so sure I'm even capable of love?"

He left her to ponder this for a second, but Max had known long before that he was capable of it. She'd seen his devotion first hand, and she'd never forgot the scene in the house when he'd held her.

"I saw you," she confessed. "I saw you together and I knew you loved her. I heard you say it, when..." She swallowed heavily, letting the confession trail off into the quietness of the night.

A pregnant silence filled the air, despite the rain, but Max knew she'd gotten through to him. She'd never had a doubt that he had loved her; that he still loved her. At first, she'd been shocked. Like he had said, she hadn't even thought him capable of such an emotion. She'd thought his heritage would leave him immune to such a thing, to the fickle weaknesses of the heart. But she'd been wrong. Oh, she'd been so very wrong. 

"They told me to kill her," he explained, his voice a harsh whisper above the pounding of the rain. "They said she was of no use anymore, that we didn't need her. She'd served her purpose." Regret laced his voice and his head dropped shamefully. "But I fell in love with her. I didn't mean to. God, I never... " 

He broke then, heaving sobs wracking his strong form, reducing him to a bundle of frayed nerves. He wept openly, the rain mixing with the salt of his tears to run in steady rivers down his face. Max wanted to tear her eyes away, to turn her back on the empty shell of the being before her. The X5-s heart tore at the sight of this man - a man she had once considered an enemy - being reduced to the same tragedies of the human heart; a victim to the whims of the soul. He had been the last person she'd ever expected to fall, but the world had twisted on his axis and she was left with a heartbreaking miracle, that was neither miraculous or wanted. And Max could do nothing but watch as the man she had once assumed was immune to the pains of the world, buckled beneath his own.

Stretching out a tentative hand, Max rested her fingers upon the the quivering muscle of his arm. His head snapped round at the touch, but she didn't flinch, merely squeezed his arm reassuringly in a gesture that was both foreign and instinctive.

"It's not your fault," she spoke softly. The rain was letting up a little and the blackened clouds were shifting slowly. "You can't blame yourself for being the person they made you. Just like I can't."

Shining eyes stared back at her, but his face was a mask again; his features hardening into that of her enemy. "I killed her, Max. And nothing I do will change that." He moved to stand up, lifting himself up from the floor and wiping the dirt from his rain-soaked clothes. The dark clouds parted, the moon casting heavy rays down on them both; the white glow washing over the side of him that wasn't cloaked in the shadows of the alley.

Max watched in fascination at the sight. Half of his features were masked by the darkness, while the moon lit up the other side of him, turning it an almost angelic white. The transgenic found the contrast to be a reflection of the very man he was. He lived in the shadows, but there was a part of him that was capable of something better; the part that hadn't been tarnished by his creators. The part that had loved her against all the odds.

With a sickening feeling of guilt, 452 clambered to her feet as she watched him walking away.

"Wait!" she cried out desperately, her heart thumping wildly against her chest. She couldn't let him leave like this, couldn't let him be buried beneath the darkness of his own soul.

He stopped, turning to look at her, waiting for her to say something she hoped would help to save him. She pleaded with him silently, her voice failing her when she needed it the most. She swallowed, her throat hoarse, and scrambled for something to say.

"I can help you," she breathed. She took a hesitant step forward. "Please... let me help you."

He was silent for a second and Max was hopeful. She waited with baited breath, fingers stretched out towards him in an offer she never thought she'd be making. Finally, he spoke.

"You can't help me, Max," he declared quietly. "No one can."

And with that, Ames White turned and disappeared into the darkness.

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Any comments? :)


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